


Saving the Day

by CatS81



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatS81/pseuds/CatS81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Fandot Creativity Night 30.04.16 - prompt was 'Wind' and/or 'Adore'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving the Day

“Look at it, Mum! It’s _amazing_!”

Carolyn smiled at her eight year old son’s characteristic enthusiasm, following his gaze into the dazzling brightness of the azure sky and watching as the colourful shape danced in the breeze.

“It’s certainly a sight to behold, Arthur. There’s no doubt about that.”

“I can’t believe it’s actually _flying_! Something I made all by myself is actually flying!”

“Well, naturally. Aside from crazy golf I’d wager that kite-making is quite possibly your greatest skill.”

Arthur turned to her, cherubic face almost split in a grin, and she felt her heart swell with adoration. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Mum. You always know just what to say.”

“It’s not a stretch when it’s the truth, dear-heart.”

Arthur wrapped one arm around her waist in a fierce hug, the ragamuffin kite protesting at his change of position as it dipped and dived, and Arthur cried out as it spiralled towards a nearby tree. Within seconds its crooked tail was wrapped about the branches, and despite his furious tugging it remained firmly wedged amongst the leaves.

He drew a breath to speak but Carolyn held up a warning palm. “Arthur, light of my life, I adore you. But I am _not_ climbing a tree for that kite so don’t even _think_ about suggesting it.”

“But, Mum….”

“Don’t ‘But, Mum’, me. Read my lips.”

“It’s for Dad’s birthday! I was just testing it out to check it flew!” Arthur’s eyes were bright with tears, devastation written all over his face. “It was meant to be a surprise.”

Carolyn felt her stomach lurch at his admission, painfully aware that his father would be little enough impressed with a homemade kite, let alone one that was battle-scarred. “We could always make a new one…,” she tried, crouching down beside him as she watched his shoulders slump.

“But that one was special. I used all of the paper and ribbons I could find in Dad’s favourite colours, and I don’t think there’s any others he’d like and….”

“Alright,” she stopped him gently, drawing him into her body. “Alright, Arthur. Calm down.”

“His birthday’s tomorrow, Mum.”

“I know.”

“And he’d _love_ that kite, wouldn’t he?”

Carolyn allowed herself a tiny hesitation, her heart splintering a fraction at her son’s innocent delusion, before she rallied. “Of course he would, darling.”

“So, what am I going to do?”

She straightened again and sighed, dread settling in her chest as her eyes were drawn up towards the recalcitrant article, straining against its jailer. _Oh, God…._

“You,” she told him, “are going to stand at the bottom and make sure I don’t break my neck – alright?”

“I thought you said…?”

“I know what I said, Arthur. But I hadn’t realised just what a….special kite this is, so…..”

Arthur beamed. “Oh, Mum, thank you!”

“You can thank me when I’m down in one piece. Now, come on.”

With a resolute set to her shoulders Carolyn approached the offending tree and tested out the first foothold - silently cursing the wind, her child’s penchant for craft and Gordon’s prospective cruel reaction to his gift as she began to steadily climb. _Only for you, Arthur._ she thought with a softening heart. _Always for you. ___

__FIN._ _


End file.
